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CA Guilfoyle Dec 2016
Now these clouds
the cold mean greys
sideways rain, the north lands I remember
the drowning choke of smoke and fire
traveling the dark road to your home
the black and spark of stars
we watched through the night
before the killing dawn
before the foggy cold that held us down
the clinch and grasp a slow stinging wasp
gone the fragrant hum of bees
the honey meadow petals.

Only a fleeting summer - we gathered
now swallowed in the autumn thunder
the bruising cold of November.
Alyssa Underwood Jul 2016
child of heart
but not of womb,
would i'd been
gifted to ban the
parasitic lies,
to shelter ears
& fragile petals
against bruising,
acts and words.
would i might be
gifted now to
soothe, cradling
tender soul through
deadest night's
watery gloom.
yet firmly i know
none other will ever
be gifted to bestow
what only One balm
can perfectly renew,
and He waits for you,
my beautiful girl.
Smoke Scribe Aug 2018
Imagine that
I could write a salve,
compose an ointment of verbal herbs to heal,
even mere protect the already-torn-so-easy mental flesh,
just to disguise/hide the multi-colored bruising our
fickle mistress-in-common provides when you are down so far
another bruise joining the cast like a  floodplain subsuming one more feeding creek bed into the shapelessness of indistinguishability

imagine that

where atoms hide eternal between creation and destruction,
borrow brief the set exact you require to restore the taken years
from fathers/mothers/brothers/sisters,
return that which went unused by the uninvited, unseemly human whim of war and lies for no gain

imagine that

the deep sinkhole of despair that ***** one in, years in the formation, appearing in instance, and worse does not drowns but leaves helpless, unable to climb out, and all our scratching digs us in deeper until we cannot be, seen or heard or just be

imagine that

a check comes in the mail, payable left open for filling-in,
in the amount of full restoration, with no additional fees of guilt needed for deposit and cashing/caching out: and you wake up
and the stony chest is breathing lungs free

imagine that

and I do; for I am the smoke of return and rest, sky inscribing,
knowing precise needs and the screams and the years unfair taken,
they are screened through the five perceptions, and the word weaver
sets the loom for each peculiar requisition, no imagination needed

imagine that

you lament and anger demand verifiable proofs mathematical,
cursing the knights of false hopes with untethered regret

I do not imagine that; hear it and accept; my task, imagine that, making you imagine that, thus commencement of repair begins

we imagine that

for this how new healthy cells  are born

quiet-now,  go, imagine-that, now
if you recognize yourself within, it is no accident!
thank u all for the love and appreciation. one writes many poems in many disguises, so it is hard to believe  that an 8 month old poem, sent to you for safekeeping, is shortly thereafter barely recalled.
and then is rebirthed, and wouldn’t change a word...
imagine that!
Alysia Marie Dec 2018
I’m sick
And I’m tired
I’m eating my words
As they dance on my tongue
Making me squirm as they turn
Oh I’m biting
I’m chewing
Simply swallowing my pride
For I can’t say how I feel
No matter how hard I’ve tried
For they pin me
They ***** me
Puncturing my mind
As I sit here and silence
Muted like a mime
I can’t say it
I fear it
The version that you’ll see
If I emit all of these feelings
My caged memories
For they haunt me
They taunt me
Like a stained porcelain tub
You can’t rid it of residue
No matter how hard you scrub
That’s my mind
They’re my eyes
Tinted a light shade of blue
As eroded as these beaches
I’m drowning from you
Your fingers
They’ve grabbed me
Now bruising my soul
How can one escape from your grasp-
I just long to feel whole
For it was physical
Now emotional
Unsure which one is worse
See these flashbacks you’ve gifted me
Were your most vicious curse

                               Alysia Marie 2018 ©
Perhaps one day these flashbacks will subside
Perhaps one day it’ll all end.
Marina Kay Mar 2014
Scattered are the sentiments that float
About the galaxies growing within me.
Lurking in my veins, cascading down my spine,
Sending shivers to every fraction of my body.
An abundance of the heart never troubled me before, except now it is
Bruising, scratching and numbing my core.
Eventually I'll grow weary.
Eventually I'll quit. For how
Little can I do to possibly cease it?
Acrostic of my real name.
When someone breaks your trust
you'll never forget
But if you let it scar
if you let it toughen
your edges
The only person you'll hurt is
So even though it stings
even though its hard
And be wary against further bruising.

-Esther L. Krenzin-
I know its hard, but holding grudges is hurtful to both you, and others.
The sky crackles and I feel the most alone.

Just like that day in the woods.

My special place was off the trail, but he couldn't have known me,

I was so young and such an idiot,

Not everyone is genuine but I was so trusting,

I can still smell the sickening mixture of fresh-fallen rain,his sweat, the mud around the creek and salt from my tears.

With every atmospheric collision from the sky
my stomach churns tasting the blood in my mouth from his fist thundering against my tear stained cheeks.

When the wind blows  
I can still feel his callous hands bruising and exploring my unwilling body, and scraping against
the most intimate parts of me.

The lightning is when I remember the rock that found my desperate palms and crashing against his temple

The wind howls and the rain finally starts to fall then, near my belly button burns just like it did when the blade he swung wildly cut me before I could run and the water is my heartbeat pounding  in my ears,
but I can hear him behind me
The rush If my blood reminding me I’m still alive mind begging me to stay that way, his threats pushing me further

Head pounding ,body burning,
I burst through my front door

And then I start to cry
Rain storms are actually very hard for me to get through due to some other traumas but the storm that passed when I wrote this smelled like that day. Thunder really triggers me especially when I'm alone I used to cry in school when it thundered in the weeks after this incident but then I started to internalize it and I'd just be really quiet on those days. Trigger Warning, ****, molestation, violent attaked on a minor.
The road I take no more matters
world drowned in silence with no more chatters;
what's the point of picking and choosing,
when every moment with out U is only bruising.
delicatefractal Dec 2017
Hold me
My body is warm with trust
I am melting
blooming reality
take it from me and
let it run deep

I am so fragile
unfolding time in your hands
life between us

I love you I love you I love you

you can kiss
after midnight

This is a promise. (A lesbian promise.)

the lights needn't be clear to be beautiful.

blushing and bursting and bruising and buckling

I love you I love you I love you
quinn silverman Apr 2018
ur handling my throat too harshly
stop pulling my hair it’s tearing
i want u to slovenly touch my body
but u insist on beating me
trying to convince me it feels good
ur selfish, it only pleases you
my broken body laying there
but u love me, and i love u too
i let you have your way with my body
i’m crying and you love the look of it
i’m bruising and you love the sound of it
“gentler, gentler”
i muffle through clenched teeth
but ur ears are clogged
with the sound of your pleasure
you’re too rough with my body
you’ve broken it enough
but i still love you
so i fake a smile to keep you
It's quicker to finish my festered,
fleeting head with this.
Biting at my skull,
I'm sold to the night's knights.
That might mean,
I could've been okay,
if I hadn't been caught walking
out of talking to everyone.
Blood stains remain a loss,
I cannot gain from losing.
Loosening that little
band around my neck,
I can't forget it,
the tighter it grows,
bruising my skin
and unraveling my
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Amiri Sheppard Aug 2018
Barely breathing in a world full of suffocating loss.
Raking in my thoughts I remember the time I lost my coin toss.
Only hope remains, but she’s dying in the corner.
Killing for a better day, but I’m a foreigner.
Enjoying my pain she is, but we’re both losing.
Never ending pain we’re in, but I’m the one who’s bruising.
There’s no ending in my far-reaching sight.
How I wish she can take flight.
Once she was a queen, but now she only sees dreams.
Useless I was playing for her team.
Going for self-doubt I could always accomplish.
Hiding away my fears that I would try to demolish.
Trouble it was to keep her happy, but for the moment it was worth it.
Scarier things we’ve seen that she won’t admit, but I’ll be the first to say it wasn’t counterfeit.
bri Aug 2018
Never trust anyone,
best advice I've ever been given.
But do I listen?
I know I can't trust a soul
but yet around I go,
letting people break down my walls
when they have no intention of helping me
build it back up
if it ever comes crashing down.

I can feel the bricks I let you pick
away from my shield
tumble down
around me now.
It takes my breath away,
with each stone that hits me
bruising my already battered heart.

Now, I am under rubble
stuck under my own broken walls
I built to protect myself
from men like you.

And here I know,
I have to start over.
Am I able to build my wall high enough
to keep out the next one who tries to steal my heart
& heal myself from all the wounds
I've caused myself from letting the wrong ones in?
plural -s
: a solitary wanderer
Chrissy Aug 2017
It's hard to live in a world with so much emotional violence
It's frightening
One minute you can be alive and the next you could be a ticking time bomb
Ready to throw yourself off of a bridge  cause of the words being thrown at you bruising your fragile skin
Or even better yet dead already
Then what?
years , months, even days pass and your nothing but a distant memory in everyone minds
Only remembered when something reminds them of you
Then you realise they never really cared          

I don't want to be like one of the 20 billion that have died without their voices heard
While the people that killed get to walk around free
Is it fun to take dreams , hopes , a life away from someone
How can you live with yourself knowing you killed ?
Or nevertheless contributed to digging someone grave

It's doesn't take physically piercing a knife through someone's heart for them to die
You could just so easily pierce a hole through someones mind
Stabbing their hopes and dreams until they bleed out
Or rip out fleshy the lungs they need to breathe and survive
Taking away the foundation they needed to build an empire
Leaving them have nothing
That's not the kind of person you want to be
The one that kills using words
"Your **** "
"Worthless "
"Your not going to succeed "
"You can't do it "
"Who do you think you are ?"
"Well , I think I am the daughter of a King and Queen"
"I think I'm beautiful "
"I think I have so much worth it doesn’t have a numerical value"
"I know I'm going to succeed "
"I know I can do it"
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